


Tough Love

by Pollydoodles



Series: A Small Slice of Life [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 13:31:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6053358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollydoodles/pseuds/Pollydoodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Please tell me,” Natasha said, flinging her legs over the back of the couch and dropping onto it bodily in a way that seriously belied her assassin background. She settled into the seat next to Steve, folding her legs up gracefully like a dancer and folding into his body heat subconsciously. Her small face and delicate features, surrounding by deep red hair, tilted to one side as she regarded him. </p><p>“Please explain why it is that we live with a dog that thinks its people, and a man who acts like a dog.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tough Love

“Please tell me,” Natasha said, flinging her legs over the back of the couch and dropping onto it bodily in a way that seriously belied her assassin background. She settled into the seat next to Steve, folding her legs up gracefully like a dancer and folding into his body heat subconsciously. Her small face and delicate features, surrounding by deep red hair, tilted to one side as she regarded him. 

“Please explain why it is that we live with a dog that thinks its people, and a man who acts like a dog.”

“It helps him.” Steve said mildly, opting not to look up at her, keeping his eyes fixed on the newspaper he’d been browsing before she’d dropped into the space next to him, despite her body now crowding his on the couch. He knew, of course, without prompting who she meant when she was speaking. The red head fixed him with a long, hard, look before deigning to answer. 

“You really think so? He doesn’t speak any more than he did when he first came here.”

Her eyes were bright and curious as she looked over him, albeit her tone was disbelieving. Steve had the sincere impression that, whilst she didn’t agree with him, something inside her wanted to. 

“He goes out. He walks the dog. He’s made new friends.” 

Steve avoided Natasha’s eyes directly as he said that. They both know that Bucky had made a friend, singular. Bucky had latched onto Darcy more solidly than he’d done so with the dog. Steve refused to believe that it wasn’t a good thing. Even if he also thought it might be nice if Bucky was friendlier with the rest of the team. 

“He went to that-“ Steve stuttered slightly, coughed, and mumbled the next words. “That dog training class.”

Natasha’s hearing, whilst not as good as Steve’s or Bucky’s, was finely attuned to picking up what other people didn’t want her to hear. “Well that was an unmitigated success.” She said dryly. 

“You weren’t even there.” Steve protested. 

“I was there when they arrived back here. The only one in original mint condition was the dog.”

“He’s called Lucky, okay?”

“I know what he’s called.” She drew out the words, accenting it just so, to show him how little she cared, just about holding back from rolling her eyes as she spoke. 

“Then use it.” Steve snapped. Natasha fixed him with an arched eyebrow but declined to say more. “Please,” Steve continued, in a softer tone. “It’s important. It’s important to him.”

“To the dog?”

“To Bucky.” Steve stared back at her with a touch of defiance and she sighed. “Have you ever heard of service dogs?” He implored, blue eyes gazing over at her. 

“Yes, I have. And that’s not a service dog. He’s barely trained, he doesn’t listen to commands-“

“Well now, we sorted that out,” Steve said fairly. “That was a miscommunication on Barton’s part. He’s really been much better since-“

“Barton set you up and you’re a chump if you believe otherwise.” At this point, Natasha did roll her eyes. “He’s my best friend but I know his flaws.” 

It was Steve’s turn to eyeball her. 

“Funny, isn’t it,” He said quietly, rolling the words around his jaw and turning to look at her slowly. “The people we love, and the things we overlook, just because they mean so goddamned much to us.” 

Natasha regarded him coolly. “Don’t try the soft stuff on me, Rogers. Because it won’t work.” She pushed herself off the couch with a small huff, and he made no move to stop her, simply looking after her as she unfolded and got to her feet. 

Her back to him, she paused and turned back to him on one delicate heel. “I get it.”

He tilted his head to one side this time. Natasha sighed and turned back to face him fully, her palms facing out towards him in a show of mild deference. 

“I get it, okay? Watching someone you love who maybe actually isn’t the person you love anymore. Maybe can never be the person you love anymore. Doesn’t know how to, because someone else has reached into their head, fiddled around and probably ripped out the bits that made them the person you loved.”

Steve inhaled sharply, unable to stop the sharp sudden stab to the heart he felt listening to Natasha’s monotone explanation of all his deepest fears about Bucky. Everyone knew that Bucky had nightmares, even if no one talked about it. Hardly anyone knew about Steve’s own bad dreams, the ones that he struggled awake from, sweat rolling off his body in waves, fisting the sheets and stifling a cry in his throat. 

No one knew that sometimes, only sometimes, but enough to hate himself a little bit for it, he resented Bucky for having people, even if it was only himself and Darcy, to whom the other man could – and frequently did – run to when the thoughts racing around inside his head collided together one too many times and caused an explosion of nerves. And Steve had no one to go to. He had to be strong for Bucky, couldn’t allow himself to be caught in the same relentless emotions that often threatened to overwhelm his friend. 

He couldn’t let him fall again. 

Natasha threw him an inquisitive look, and he tamped down the emotions on his face. Narrowing her eyes at him for a moment, but getting nothing in return, she continued. 

“When Loki turned Barton, I thought-“ She paused. “I knew. I knew that I would do anything to get him back, even if he wasn’t the same after. And I didn’t know even if I could get anything of him back, but I tried anyway.” The corners of her mouth quirked in a slow smile, as if she was telling herself a private joke. Perhaps she was. 

“Turns out he’s made so simple that a good hard knock to the head is all it takes.” Her eyes met his, and there was the joke dancing behind them, but now he could also see the flavour of the fear that must have gripped her at the time. It was as close to a sincerely true confession as he was likely to get from the Widow. 

“You tried that with Bucky, yet?” She winked at him and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe you’ve been ignoring the most obvious solution all along.”

“Naw, his head’s taken too many knocks to it for that to work.” Steve shook his head, smile ghosting across his face despite himself. “Buck’s always had a head hard as nails. Just as well really, the number of times he got hit in it.” He snorted, unable to hold it back, as a memory of Bucky larking about at the top of the stairs, just shooting the shit and showing off – as usual – before tripping and hitting damn near every step on his way down. After rushing and making sure that nothing was permanently damaged, Steve had been unable to stop himself doubling over in laughter at Bucky’s indignant look and bruised head. 

“You-“ pause for laughter. “You stupid-“ more laughter. “You idiot-“ slaps Bucky on the knee and begins wheezing. 

“Yeah, yeah, punk.” Bucky grumbled. “Don’t kill yaself laughing at my misfortune, will ya? Hate to hafta explain that to the coroner. Death by being an asshole.” 

Steve had ended up collapsed against Bucky, having laughed himself right into an asthma attack, Bucky’s large hand rubbing careful circles on his back as he grumbled and cussed at Steve the whole way through. 

Blinking, Steve came back to the real world and found Natasha standing in front of him still, an unusually soft look upon her face. 

“Rogers…” She looked for a moment as though she wanted to reach out and touch him, perhaps squeeze his shoulder. But that wasn’t Natasha, that kind of emotion had been bred out of her long before she was even old enough to understand the comfort of touch. “I can’t tell you that you’ll get your Bucky back. He might be gone forever. Seventy years is a hell of a long time to be able to lose yourself in, even without the deep freeze and the brain scrambling.”

Only Natasha could equate bluntness with comfort. Except for maybe Stark. Perhaps that’s why their alliance was so uneasy – much too close to get along. 

“But don’t give up trying.” Steve had to blink again at her words. “As long as you have time, keep going. No matter what anyone says.”

With that, she turned sharply on her heel and left Steve to his own thoughts.


End file.
